


Cum Dumpster Corey Graves

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Choking, Cock Rings, Come Eating, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Frottage, Genital Piercing, Hair-pulling, Intercrural Sex, Light Bondage, Locker Room, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Tongue Piercings, come dumpster corey graves, i think??, i'd like to thank city for letting me rant about this and for helping me pick th cast, there are a total of like 24 characters in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: Corey's the resident cum dumpster for the WWE roster. There's not much else.





	1. Chapter 1

Corey’s knees are aching, pressed to the cold floor of the locker room. There are _definitely_ going to be stains on the knees of his suit later. His tie is wrapped around his wrists, fastening him to the exposed pipe running along the wall, wrenching his arms upwards at an uncomfortable angle. He’s down to his shirtsleeves, his suit jacket tossed across the bench. His shirt is missing several buttons, popped open across his chest.

The chain connecting his nipple rings is hooked around Finn’s index finger, being yanked upwards as the older man towered over him. His trunks are pulled down to sit just underneath his cock, which is resting half hard between his legs. There’s a feral smile on his lips as he edges forwards.

Corey’s mouth falls open, saliva pooling under his teeth. Finn strokes himself to full hardness and presses the head against Corey’s lower lip. He slides into the wet heat of Corey’s mouth slowly, the fingers on his free hand fighting into Corey’s product-stiffened hair. Corey’s panting, jaw slack and relaxed as he curls his tongue around Finn, pressing his tongue studs on either side of the vein running along the underside. Finn hisses, hips pressing forwards, the head of his cock hitting the back of Corey’s throat. He starts to piston his hips, his grip on Corey’s nipple rings and his hair keeping Corey in place. He’s fucking into Corey’s throat, and Corey lets himself be used, opening his throat to take Finn as far down as he can. There’s saliva running out the corners of his mouth, and there are tears stinging his eyes and it’s uncomfortable in the best way possible. He’s getting painfully hard, pressing against the zipper of his slacks.

Finn comes in three hot pulses down his throat, holding Corey’s face so close to him that his nose is digging into Finn’s pelvic bone. He swallows it greedily, savoring the salty taste of cum on his tongue. Finn pulls out, spent, and wrenches his hand from Corey’s hair. He slips backward, tucking himself back into his trunks, but not before he gives one last sharp tug to Corey’s nipple rings.

Corey lets out a whine that already sounds hoarser than it should. He’s squirming, trying to find some way to either lessen the pressure on his dick or to get some sort of friction. He doesn’t get more than a few seconds to breathe before the door to the locker room is knocking open and Tony enters.

Tony’s still sweat soaked and limping, coming back from a hard-fought match against someone. Corey realizes in the back of his head that he’s missing tonight’s taping, but he can’t let himself dwell on that because Tony’s coming to a stop in front of him.

A hand’s raking through his hair, fighting through clumps of hair gel and spray. He can hear Tony saying something but there are nails raking over his scalp, so his brain melts a little further in his head. Fingers begin to dig into the hinge of his jaw, forcing his mouth open. His tongue spills out, pliant, and he hears the hiss of Tony’s sharp inhale.

Tony pushes his trunks down to his knees, letting his quickly filling cock spring free. He pushes, still half-soft, into Corey’s mouth. Corey’s teeth scrape the underside of his dick before he can tuck his lips in, but Tony just moans and grips his hair tighter.

While Finn had been pretty quiet, stifling his moans with his own lips, Tony’s _loud_ , letting gorgeous sounds fall from between his teeth. The noise, mixed with the weight of Tony on his tongue and the hand tugging his hair just the wrong side of rough, is causing Corey to moan around the younger man’s cock. He’s seriously worried he’s gonna split a seam.

Tony’s setting a brutal pace, the muscles in his thighs flexing as he jerks his hips. There’s a pain growing in Corey’s jaw, which is starting to lock. He can’t be bothered to care, because Tony’s sliding his cock out until the head is all that’s left in Corey’s mouth and then he’s coming, filling Corey’s mouth. Corey lets out a filthy moan as he swallows, almost whining as Tony pulls free. Corey lurches forwards, licking away the little bit of cum still on the flesh.

Tony runs his fingers through his hair, bending down to meet Corey’s lust clouded eyes. He says something with a grin and it isn’t until later that Corey realizes that Tony said he ‘sucks cock like he’s made for it’. It fills him with a sick sense of pride.

Next comes Dean, already tugging his tank top over his head before the door even closes. There are a few other people in the locker room, but they’ve left Corey alone. Dean, however, sees Corey tied up against the wall by the showers and _grins_.

He walks over, tugging his belt free from his belt loops. He unbuttons his jeans and forces them down his thighs. He’s not wearing underwear, but for some reason, that isn’t surprising to Corey.

He can’t spend any time dwelling on Dean’s clothing habits because the hard leather of Dean’s belt is being fed around his neck. Dean feeds the buckle over it and lets it press against the back of his neck with a grin and lets it rest against Corey’s throat, just tight enough to truly be felt.

Dean’s smirking a filthy smirk, but there’s something in his eyes, almost akin to tenderness. Corey nods, making sure that Dean knows he’s fine with the choking. And _shit,_ is he okay with it.

Dean tightens the belt, slowly cutting off Corey’s air supply. He presses into Corey’s mouth, adding to the lack of oxygen making Corey’s head fuzzy. There’s a hand gripping his hair as well, and Corey accidentally slides his teeth along the sensitive skin of Dean’s cockhead.

Dean groans, and the belt tightens even further. Corey’s vision is going really blurry, turning a little dark around the edges. He pulls back, gasping for breath. Dean drops the belt and air rushes back into Corey’s lungs.

Dean checks to see if he’s okay, and Corey nods him off. It’s not the worst shit he’s dealt with. His mouth falls open again, but Dean shakes his head and gives him a dirty grin that has Corey’s cock pulsing. He jerks himself roughly, coming on Corey’s face and in his hair. Some lands on Corey’s tongue and he instantly wants _more._

Dean rakes a hand through his hair, making sure that his jizz stays. He wipes his hand on Corey’s crisp button-up with a wicked smile. Dean leaves him like that, with cum drying on his face and hardening in his hair. He’s feeling a little light-headed, and it isn’t from the belt hanging around his neck.

By the time the show ends, there’s come staining his shirt, drying in his hair, and cooling on his face. His throat is fucked raw and he can barely talk. His arms are aching, and his wrists are rubbed raw and he’s so hard that a slight wind could make him cum. He can’t even drive himself home, he’s so lightheaded and out of his mind with arousal. He has Finn drive him to the hotel, and he’s so sated he can’t even feel embarrassed.

He falls asleep after a thorough shower and two orgasms, legs weak. He’s so glad he doesn’t have a show until next week because if he tried to talk, everyone would know what he’d been up to.

He can’t fucking wait to do it again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL COREY HAS A PA IN REAL LIFE HOLY SHIT

The next time, it’s a little bit of a different setting.

It’s after the Royal Rumble, and everyone’s tired and sore and still half-filled with adrenaline. They’ve taken over some bar between the venue and the hotel. There’s a glass of wine or two roiling inside of him, but his head is as clear as it can be with what he knows is coming.

He’s spread out face down across one of the tables, a blanket spread under him and a jacket pillowed under his chin, his feet planted on the floor. His knuckles are going white from how hard he’s gripping the edge of the table, and goosebumps are raising across his skin. His jeans are pooled around his knees along with his underwear. His cock, half hard and leaking and suffocated by a cold metal cock ring, is trapped between his stomach and the itchy fabric of the blanket. The sleeveless band shirt he’s wearing is rucked up under his armpits, and his shoes are gone.

He feels hands settle across his hips, thumbs spreading across the cheeks of his ass. The hands are large, calloused, and warm. There’s a weight settled against the back of his thighs and he has to fight the urge to reach back and feel who it is.

There’s breath beating against his ear as the person leans forward, draping their body across Corey’s. They say something, and Corey’s too far gone to identify the words, but he recognizes the accent, the rasp of facial hair against his skin, the flash of orange fanned out beside him.

Sheamus stands back up, and the jingle of his belt buckle is music to Corey’s ears. He’s been waiting for what feels like hours, settled on a knife edge.

He can feel the heat of Sheamus’ cock slipping against the crack of his ass, the press of lips and facial hair to the junction of his neck. Sheamus’ hair is still fanned in his mohawk, and Corey wants to grab it. He doesn’t, leaving his hands clutching the edges of the table. He keeps grinding, the precum beading at his head serving as a minuscule amount of lube.

He doesn’t fuck Corey but it’s close, the head of his cock occasionally catching on his rim. His breath is dying in his throat as he feels Sheamus’ hands scrape against the plush flesh of Corey’s ass. He sometimes reaches a hand up to toy with the piercings buried in the dimples of the younger man’s back.

Corey’s biting the jacket under his chin, teeth threatening to tear the fabric as he tries to hold back moans. A hand reaches up and grips him by the hair, pulling the jacket from his teeth. Corey lets out a high, desperate whine, his head nuzzling back into Sheamus’ grip as he pushes his ass back onto the Irishman’s erection.

Sheamus comes with a grunt, biting the tattoo on Corey’s shoulder. His cum splatters against the small of Corey’s back, some settling between his ass cheeks. He groans, dropping his head on the table.

_Fuck._

He doesn’t have time to process and relax, because the next thing he knows, there’s a finger sliding through the mess and dipping between his cheeks. The finger, large and blunt, presses against his hole, waiting, teasing.

Corey lets out a sound that could be described as a wail when the finger leaves. It comes back a few moments later, and he can hear Cesaro speaking behind him. His finger presses in, using Sheamus’ cum as lube. It’s warm and it feels dirty and Corey can’t help but push backward. Cesaro slowly, carefully, _meticulously_ stretches him open. He spends what feels like an eternity using just one finger, tracing the younger man’s inner walls. When he finally slips in a second finger, the burn is so good that Corey can’t even make a noise, just gapes like a fish out of water as fire spreads across his body.

After far too long, Cesaro slips in, the burn curling deliciously at the base of his spine. He’s painfully hard, and the scrape of Cesaro’s fat cock against his stretched rim shoots straight to his dick.

Cesaro pulls his torso up so he’s standing almost straight, a thick arm wrapped around his torso to hold him against his furry chest. Corey’s legs are weak, and the older man is supporting all of his weight. Cesaro’s other hand slips down his chest, playing with his subclavicals, with his nipple rings, with his belly button piercing, with his hip dermals. He’s pulling and tugging on the barbells, sending hard shocks of pain through Corey’s spine.

Finally, _finally_ , Cesaro’s large fingers slide down Corey’s cock. He traces the edge of the cock ring, sending vicious shivers through Corey. His thumb slides around his head, making sure to toy with his reverse PA.

Corey’s moaning like a whore, stuck between pressing back onto Cesaro’s cock and fucking into the tight circle of his calloused hand. He’s so hard it hurts, the cock ring cutting off his orgasm before it can start. He’s oversensitive and every drag of Cesaro’s cock across his hole or every push against his pierced cock head feels like a punch to the gut.

Cesaro comes after a few hard thrusts that force Corey’s thighs against the edge of the table. He slips out and lets Corey crash back onto the table, panting and about to cry. It feels like he’s never going to get to come. There’s cum dripping down his thighs and he feels gross and used and dirty. He never wants it to end.

Corey gets a few minutes to rest, but it feels like hours. He’s so empty that it feels like he’s gonna fall apart, left clenching around thin air and drying cum. Eventually, a pair of hands spread his cheeks as far as they’ll go.

There’s breath ghosting across his hole and he fucking _whimpers._ There’s a moment when he’s just spread open, hole on display, someone kneeling behind him but not doing anything. Just when he’s about to start begging, a flat tongue drags across his entrance.

Corey lets out a sob when the tongue stops dragging across Corey’s core and finally spears in. He’s almost worried he’s going to crack the table, his fingers starting to hurt with the ferocity that he’s gripping the sticky wood.

There’s stubble rasping across his skin, leaving beard burn in its wake. The fingers holding him open are digging into his ass, nails biting crescents into the skin. Corey has no clue who’s behind him, who’s eating him out, and that makes it so much hotter.

The man behind him is lapping away Cesaro and Sheamus’ cum, pushing inside of him with no resistance. He’s still stretched open from Cesaro’s dick, and the tongue inside of him isn’t doing anything to help his overstimulation. There’s a subtle scrape of teeth on Corey’s hole every once and a while and it has him practically sobbing.

Finally, he feels the tongue leaves and he feels movement. There’s the sound of a belt buckle jingling and the scrape of a zipper in the air and it sounds like the heavens have opened and whatever higher deity that exists is taking pity on him.

The cock pressing into him is long and thick and the man is taking his time. As soon as he’s all the way in, Corey’s hole greedily swallowing his dick, he pulls out and slams back in. He sets a brutal pace, fucking Corey hard enough to make the table creak against the floor. He’s hitting Corey’s prostate regularly with enough force that Corey’s sure he’s not going to be able to walk for a few days.

He’s getting dragged off the table by his hair, and his neck is getting bent back at an unnatural angle. He’s looking up at The Miz staring down at him with a cruel grin and a hard twinkle in his eyes. There’s a hand reaching down to unlock the cock ring and Corey’s sigh of relief is cut short by The Miz speaking. There’s a part of his brain buried underneath the fog of lust weighing him down that registers the words as ‘ _you don’t come until I do’._

He lets out a sob, tears slipping down his cheeks. The Miz is still fucking him furiously, the hand on his head threatening to rip out a fistful of hair. His back is curved painfully, and he’s being forced to look up at the Miz and he’s so hard that he doesn’t think he can last. His cock is weeping almost as bad as he is, precome dripping down to collect against his balls.

The Miz comes with one last harsh thrust that forces Corey into the table hard enough to leave bruises. The Miz speaks against his ear and then Corey’s coming. His orgasm seems to have no end, and he no longer feels like a person. He’s stretched and used and floating in a haze of pleasure.

He doesn’t remember how he gets to his hotel room, but he does. He wakes up in his bed, the last night’s activities washed off his skin. He’s sore and sated and his head is still swimming.

He almost wishes he was still cum drenched.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this took forever

Corey spreads out in the backseat of the SUV, laptop rested against his knees. Tom’s driving, and Nia’s making pleasant conversation from the passenger seat. He has one headphone over his ear, the other pulled back just in case he’s spoken to.

A few days before, he had recorded a video. It had been a terrible day and all he can really remember was a whole lot of bullshit. He needed to be taken down, to be used, and he needed it badly.

The video starts a little shakily as the camera is repositioned. Corey’s spread across the bed, face down, on his knees with his arms folded under him. He’s blindfolded by a sleep mask pressed tight across his face. He’s not wearing anything other than a hard leather collar, a cock ring, and a plug. He’s positioned sideways on the bed, head towards the window and ass to the door. The camera is at the foot of the bed.

The door knocks against the wall when it opens. Corey’s legs spread a little further at the sound. Footsteps can be heard before the person causing them enters the frame.

No, not person,  _ people _ .

It’s Xavier, Kofi, and Big E. They’re speaking quietly, communicating through mostly gestures. It doesn’t matter, because Corey’s so far down the voices wouldn’t register to him. Xavier strips down, as does E. T-shirts go first, followed by shoes, socks, and jeans, until they’re left naked. Kofi’s still in his jeans, though they’re unbuttoned. 

“Fuck, he’s all stretched out for us.” Xavier groans, sliding the plug out of Corey. The shiver that racks down his spine is visible. Two fingers slip into Corey with no resistance, and a third joins it just as easily. Kofi helps Xavier position Corey, the younger man on his back below Corey. They move Corey until he’s straddling Xavier’s thighs, his forearms bracketing the shorter man’s head.

Xavier places gentle kisses to Corey’s lips and jaw as he slides in, Kofi’s hands spreading across his back as he  _ shakes _ . He slowly fucks into Corey, lets him acclimate to the intrusion. Xavier’s pretty long, thick, and Corey moans against Wood’s lips. 

He doesn’t get to kiss the younger man for long, because E’s grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head up. The larger man is kneeling behind Xavier’s head, lazily pumping his cock with one hand. He feeds it to Corey, who moans filthily around it. Corey goes to work in no time, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks. E pumps his hips slowly, dragging in and out across Corey’s tongue piercings. 

As he watches the video, Corey can see the bulge of his throat around E’s cock. He bites back a moan, coughs to hide the noise he makes, and readjusts the laptop across his knees.

On screen, he watches as Kofi slips a finger in next to Xavier’s cock. Corey moans, loud and filthy around E’s dick. As Xavier fucks into him, the older man carefully stretches him even further, fingers working incessantly as he slowly fits another three fingers in.

After a long moment of Kofi stretching him out, Kofi presses his cock into Corey. Corey shakes, moans, tries to fuck his hips back as he almost gags on E’s dick. There are lips pressing against Corey’s neck, hands smoothing across his back as Kofi slowly fucks into him. Xavier’s moaning, one hand gripping Corey’s ass as the other gropes for Kofi’s thigh.

Corey slides the laptop further into his lap, seeing if it’ll hide the erection starting to grow in his slacks. It’s a lost cause, knows nothing will hide it, but Nia and Tom are preoccupied in the front seats, so he’s good.

As he watches the video, the way Kofi and Xavier fuck into him, he has to fight down a groan.

E comes first, spilling hot down his throat, cum dribbling from the corners of his mouth. The rolling of the younger man’s hips stutters, slows, and then his hips draw out slowly. Corey lets out a moan, something akin to a whine, as E’s dick slides out of his raw throat. Woods and Kofi follow, coming almost simultaneously. When they pull out, cum seeps down his thighs, the flow stopping when they replug him. He groans, stretched and fucked out, and almost collapses when they leave.

He fast forwards through ten long minutes, the footage showing him panting and writhing and begging thin air.

Eventually, two sets of footsteps fill the air, and two men enter the room. It's Rollins and Reigns, laughing softly at whatever they're saying. Corey whines and spreads his legs as far as they'll go, burying his face in the crook of his arm. 

It's Rollins that carefully twists the plug, and it's Reigns that drags his head up by the collar. It cuts off his air supply, if his rattled gasp is anything to go by, and Corey's neck aches.

Seth slips the plug free and tilts Corey's hips up to keep the cum from leaking out of him. He grins at Roman and says something that Corey can't grab even watching the video back. 

Roman shoves his cock deep into Corey's throat with no preamble, and Corey almost chokes around it. His arms drop from under him, head supported by Roman's hand on his jaw and the other slid through the collar. His nails scratch against the bedsheets and eventually, he manages to get a hand on Roman's thigh.

As Roman roughly fucks his throat, Seth slips in. He's still stretched and raw from Xavier and Kofi, so Seth slips in almost too easily. The glide is aided by the two men's cum as well, slicking his channels and leaking from his hole.

They set a ruthless pace, every thrust from Roman pushing him further onto Seth's cock and vice versa. He's moaning, whining, making almost pathetic little noises deep in his chest. Roman smears a finger through the precum gathering at Corey's tip, and the stimulation to his trapped cock is enough to make him sob.

He notices with a  _ holy shit _ that Seth's and Roman's moans are muffled because their lips are pressed together. They're leaning over Corey almost like he's not there, and their lips are locked in a passionate kiss that simultaneously has too much tongue and not enough tongue. Seth has one hand latched onto Corey's hip to spread him open, the other tangled deep in Roman's hair.

Roman comes down Corey's throat when Seth grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls him in close. Seth isn't far after, and as they kiss and Corey swallows greedy mouthfuls of cum, Seth's hips falter. 

They leave just as fucking quickly as New Day had, making sure to plug Corey again as they left. After what feels like two and a half eternities, someone's here.

It takes a moment of squinting at his screen, but he's able to identify the mystery people. It's Mustafa and Neville, and Mustafa does not look happy. He looks like he doesn't want to be here. He looks almost uncomfortable, but there's no mistaking the bulge in his pants.

Neville says something, the low rumble of his accent drawing a moan from Corey. It sounds rough, wrecked, sounds exactly like his throat's been fucked twice. Mustafa flushes red and ducks his head, mumbles something Corey can't hear.

Neville watches as Mustafa moves, a hand pressed to the front of his trousers. Mustafa kneels at the side of the bed, and Neville manhandles Corey onto his back. His cock is an angry purple, the cock ring locked tight around his base. He whines, grinds his hips into nothing at all.

Mustafa unplugs him and his hole clenches, desperately trying to hold in the cum painting his insides. Some dribbles out, slips down the curve of his ass, and Mustafa catches it with his tongue.

He carefully licks up to Corey's core, tongue wide and flat. He slips inside easily, and Corey whimpers almost pathetically. He doesn't go quickly, seems to enjoy himself, slicking Corey with his tongue as he lets his mouth fill with cum.

Neville’s removed his clothing by now, folded and set on the edge of the bed. He slings a leg over Corey's midsection and sits across Corey's abs. He reaches down and unlocks the cock ring but quickly replaced it with two fingers pressed tight against the base of Corey's cock. Corey whines, at the stimulation, the cut off, fucks his hips upwards as much as he can with Mustafa holding down his thighs and Neville pinning him with his weight.

Neville shifts, rises onto his knees. He carefully lines up Corey's cock and slowly sinks down a few inches. He rocks his hips, slipping further down Corey's dick. Corey moans, throws his head back.

Corey twitches in his sweats and readjusts the laptop. He’s so fucking hard he’s worried a particularly hard wind could get him off, and the idea that Tom or Nia could look back and notice isn’t helping. He knows he’s breathing heavily and that his face has to be flushed, but he can’t be bothered to care as he watches Neville sink down onto his cock.

“You don’t get to come until we do.” Neville growls, voice low as he rocks his hips. Corey pants, his body trashing as much as he can, his fingers sinking into his own hair. Mustafa still has his face buried between Corey’s legs, jaw working like he’s a man starving.

Neville rolls his hips a few times, breathing getting heavier every once and awhile. After a few moments, he rises to his knees and drops his weight.

A loud moan rips out of Corey's mouth, choked in his throat. His hands come forward, leaving his own hair to grasp at Neville's hips. The younger man snarls but doesn't say anything, instead focusing as he fucks himself on Corey's cock again. 

Incoherent words are falling from Corey's mouth, strings of blue curses as he digs his nails into Neville's hips. He  _ begs, _ pleads for Mustafa to stop holding him down, for Neville to let him fuck up, for something,  _ anything _ to do. 

Mustafa pulls his mouth off of Corey, and the slick gleam of cum is visible on his chin and in his beard. He stands and pulls Neville in for a kiss, something filthy that's barely lips, mostly tongues and the slide of cum. As Corey watches, heat curls in his stomach.

Mustafa's arm is moving, and Corey realizes with a jolt that he's jerking himself off, two fingers having dipped down to gather some cum dripping from Corey's hole. He's using it to slick the slide of his hand along his cock, little gasps falling from his lips.

It doesn't take long for Mustafa to come, and he doesn't even get through his aftershocks before he has his hands on Neville. With one hand he jerks Neville off, fingers slick with cum, the other sliding to grip Neville's ass. He slips a finger in, stretching Neville even further around Corey's cock.

Corey lets out a wail, something desperate, as he feels the press of two fingers against the side of his cock, Neville so impossibly tight around him. Neville's hips are rolling as he fucks himself on Corey's cock, moaning into Mustafa's cum-slick mouth.

It doesn't take long for Neville to come. It spills across Mustafa's hand, followed by a moan that sounds loud even with his mouth locked on Mustafa's. He must clench, because Corey lets out a wrecked moan and digs his fingers even tighter into Neville's hips.

“Come.”

The word is nothing more than a growl from Neville, low and aggressive as he rolls his hips again. Corey obliges, fucking his hips up twice before he comes. He melts back into the bed, boneless.

Mustafa and Neville leave after that, and Corey almost groans at the site of his cum leaking down Neville's thighs. They leave him there, gaping and leaking cum, still blindfolded. The video ends abruptly.

Corey almost doesn't make it to his hotel room before he comes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tonyknees on Tumblr! Come bug me!


End file.
